The Luxury of Cruelty
by Hallowed Huntress
Summary: A series of oneshots set in the Luxury of Mercy universe. Focuses particularly Carlisle his friendship with Aro and their experiments together, but also explores other topics. Will need to have read at least the first ten chapters of the Luxury of Mercy to understand this. No non-canon pairings. Warning: 16 plus for mature themes. No lemons, no slash.
1. Chapter 1

**AN: This is a slightly different version of some of the events in the sewer during Carlisle's attempted raid on the London coven. The main difference is that in The Luxury of Mercy, a whole swarm of vampires surround Carlisle's group and devour them at once (mostly off-screen). In this version, most of Carlisle's friends abandon him after the death of William, and we get to see more combat.**

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><p><strong>- Fearless Audacity -<strong>

In their fear, all of my companions had abandoned me but one. The one who had stayed behind was the scraggily-bearded man who had stood on my right initially, whose threating and impressive skills with a knife (which had cost many innocent men their lives) had him wanted in multiple kingdoms. It struck me as horribly ironic that a man who had spent almost his entire existence as a scoundrel and a thief was the man who turned out to be the most reliable companion—but I wasn't given much time to dwell on it,

"You are the reverend's son. Carlisle… if I recall correctly," the immortal being approaching us intoned coolly, resting his thick, wiry arms unthreateningly at his sides, as his unsettling red eyes seemed to bore deep gouges in my bright blue ones, and the female behind him glided forward, intrigued by the male vampire's statement, her satin hem rustling nosily as it fluttered over the cold, chalky floor.

I was stunned that this man—no this monster—knew my name, but was perhaps even more astonished that the fearsome creature before me had deigned to speak at all. Usually human-vampire interactions consisted entirely of throat-ripping, knife-hacking and the acrid scent of sizzling flesh. To have a conversation of any sort—even an accusatory one, was practically unheard of.

I swallowed deeply and waited with bated breath and slimy, salty palms for the slightest signal of danger, before I noticed the male's furiously annoyed expression, and hastily realized I was supposed to answer.

"Y-Yes… I am he…" I stammered out unthinkingly, grimacing as thick splinters of wood breached the soft pads of my fingers as I tightened my clutches around the low-burning torch, and tiny droplets of blood beading on the other hand as I pressed my thumb firmly into the sharp, gleaming blade to keep it from slipping from my sweat-soaked grasp.

The vampire's eyes briefly flitted down to the tendrils of hot blood sliding over the knuckles of my right hand, and I momentarily panicked as a dark, thirsty look overtakook them for a moment before he unexpectedly composed and enquired: "Then your father has sent you here… to exterminate us?" He held perfectly still as he spoke, his tone colored with placid neutrality—as though we were discussing what was for breakfast, rather than a unanswerably loaded question with life or death implications.

I suppose his tone made sense from a certain perspective—if my response dissatisfied him, I _was_ breakfast.

"Yes… that was my intention…" "…but I now understand that that is clearly impossible! I was foolish to assume that we, mere humans were capable of destroying you."

"Yes, foolish indeed." the vampire whispered harshly, lowering his hand to cinch his fingers tightly around my neck, causing the torch in my hand to slip from my grip as my energy rapidly ebbed away, and flicker out as it rolled over the grimy stone floor. I was gasping desperately for air, and the male seemed, at last, to recall that I needed to breathe, and released me suddenly, before the woozy black dots filling my vision consumed me entirely.

I was still reeling from nearly being suffocated to death, haggardly sucking in air, and clutching my painfully bruised throat, and thus unable to respond, so he continued, "Certainly you are aware that if I desired it, I could end your life very swiftly," he reminded me threateningly, flexing the strong fingers that had seized me with lethal force moments before in front of my dizzy eyes. "Why would you walk so brazenly towards your assured demise? Do you desire death?" he asked, the distaste for those who attempted to terminate their own lives vibrantly evident on his disturbingly contorted face.

This time I shook my head with vigor—I absolutely was not suicidal. Hopelessly misinformed about my enemies actual abilities, and wholly unprepared to confront something so vastly more powerful than myself, yes. But suicidal, no. God willing, I had every intention of leaving this sewer alive.

"I thought not. The fervor of life is with you still," he commented observantly, his scarlet eyes never leaving mine as he raised the hand which he had previously used to deprive me of my only weapon, and his tongue darted out to languidly lick the drops of blood which had stained them as a result of my crashing grip against the blade, off his extended fingers. His eyelids fluttered shut for a brief second, as though considering the taste, before a mild frown settled over his lips and he abruptly outstretched his bloody-smeared hand to his side, and the female vampire bent over it, caressing the pads of his fingers with her delicate tongue, before making a revolted face.

_My blood was distasteful to these vampires? I suppose that was a small comfort—but it didn't necessarily guarantee my safety. It was not a prerequisite to consume me in order to kill me. _

"Men who wish to die have dead eyes—but yours are vividly alight with the passion of vitality," the male vampire said suddenly, abruptly retracting his hand from the female, wiping away my blood on a grimy, splotched handkerchief, and warping his mouth into a discomfortingly satisfied smirk. "I like that."

I remained silent. My etiquette courses had never quite covered what you were supposed to say when a vampire complimented you on simply trying your hardest to survive, despite the blatant assurance of death. Nor did they cover what to say in response to said vampires discovering you have unusually unsavory blood. If I ever survived this, I would have to inform my instructor of leaving me woefully unprepared in the most important social situation of my entire life.

"I confess, that is quite brazen of you, and your companion to encroach on the territory of your natural predators, and presume to come to kill us, even," he breathed in unexpected awe, "What, pray tell, inspired this astounding display of audacity?"

I was about to say something clever when my companion responded: "Someone's got to put you demons where you belong—in Hell."

My companion tensed, and raised his silver knife, despite having seen the fate of mine, before suddenly darting across the room to attack the vampire in front of me. He moved so quickly and with such agile grace, for a moment I considered the possibility that he might be a vampire as well, until the male vampire effortlessly blocked his knife assault to the palm of his hand, tangled his icy white fingers around the blade, and threw it up into the ceiling, where it stuck.

I was astonished that the renowned knife-user would be so foolish, until I realized that it was a feint—to distract the vampire, while he swung his torch, to catch the vampire on fire. Of course, the vampire realized about the same time that I did what was going on, but with his superior reflexes, he was able to bend over backwards, place his hands on the ground, and lift his feet off of the floor into a handstand. His boots collided with the theif's face on their way up, before he folded back over onto his feet, seizing the man's face by the ears on both sides.

I watched, horrified, as the vampire twisted my human companion's face sharply to the left, and there was a sickening _crack_, before the man collapsed into a heap on the floor.

I staggered backwards in fear, and was about to flee in terror, before I realized that I wouldn't get very far.

…

At first, as the bestial figures around me swarmed upon us, and tore savagely into us with their teeth, I had assumed that my earthly existence was coming to an end, and internally prepared to meet my maker. I was at peace, knowing that I had given life my very best effort, and had repented of all my sins. The afterlife would greet me warmly, and I could go on to paradise.

Certainly I didn't simply give up—I swung my torch haphazardly around me and managed to catch a few vampires on fire, before they quickly tossed my torch into a puddle, extinguishing the flames with a whining hiss, and dropped to the ground to roll, and smother the flames which had licked their skin. And when my torch was gone, I swung my fists, punching as hard as I could into the guts of these abominable creatures—until my knuckles were bloody and my hands ached with broken bones. When my hands failed me, I kicked, and elbowed, and kneed, and even slammed my head into them, in a futile attempt to harm them. Instead, I became overcome with vertigo, and tripped into the arms of an angry vampire, whose blunt teeth ripped at the skin covering my forearm.

I was suddenly overcome with the sensation of being burned alive, and I howled in pain, much like William had, and went entirely limp, as my blood was being noisily slurped away. I finally summoned enough strength to kick the vampire in the shins, hoping to escape his clutches, but instead, the vampire simply flipped me upside-down in his grip, so that he held my head over the floor with his wrists fastened around my ankles, and bit savagely into my calf.

Somehow I managed to punch him in the gut with my free arm, and while it certainly didn't hurt him, it distracted him sufficiently to allow me to slip free of his grasp and scramble to my feet. The vampire flitted towards me, and I grabbed the nearest thing I could find—one of the extinguished torches, and brought it down over the vampire's head. Surprisingly, it connected—I hadn't presumed I would have been fast enough—but it shattered into splinters upon impact, most of which ended up embedded in my face.

Enraged by my futile attack, the vampire seized me by the shoulders and bit hard into my neck. I screamed in agony, and before I knew it, the other vampires, who, had already finished off my companion, all snatched a portion of my person—whether an arm, or a leg, or either side of my neck, or my collarbone, and sunk their teeth into me as well. The pain was exquisite, and I blacked out from it.


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: This one is a little less polished, so I apologize for that, but it's a compilation of a few scenes where Carlisle discovers his gift, and tests its limits in Italy. Because of plot reasons, it was edited out of the final Luxury of Mercy chapters, but I figured I would post it here, for any who are curious as to how this worked out. These events happened before Aro tries Carlisle's diet and discovers the secret to his restraint.**

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><p><strong>Powerful Discoveries<strong>

"Surely you must jest, sir," Carlisle said disbelievingly. "If I had talent like yours—I would have known immediately."

"You spent the first two years of your immortality surrounded solely by animals," I objected politely, "and you've still not had regular contact with humans or even many of your own kind."

"But I cannot read minds, or see relationships, or induce any emotions…" He explained, confused by my insistence that he possessed a gift. "I do not see in my self this power you claim to see in me."

"When you first ventured into London again, and met Alistair—does he not remember the encounter differently than you?" I asked.

"He certainly seemed to be confused when I mentioned it to him later," Carlisle mused somewhat distractedly, peering up at the wax-dripping chandeliers above him as he recalled the event in his perfect memory. "Though I have no idea how he got the impression that I descended suddenly in a pillar of light," he added bewilderedly. "I simply walked up to him and he was startled by my eyes—he seemed to think I was some kind of demon, and I was upset by that."

I smiled. Carlisle's confession revealed more than he knew.

"And so what did you do?" I probed further.

"I do not understand your meaning."

"When you approached him, what did you do?" I asked gently.

"Well, certainly you saw it," he said neutrally, remarkably undisturbed by my casual invasion of his mind. "I gave him a reassuring touch—to assure him that I was corporeal, and of his kind and not some ungodly phantasm."

"Oh yes, but what were you thinking?" I queried anxiously—for what had occurred next in his memories was most intriguing.

"He had red eyes," Carlisle related sadly, turning his own away from mine, which were the same hue as his description, "I was hopeful that I could convince him to switch to my unorthodox way of doing things. But I was worried that he saw me as something abominable rather than someone trying to help him," he related, his tone tinged with mild sadness over the idea of being perceived as a demon, when he was striving so ardently to be a saint.

"You wanted him to see you as an angel come to rescue his soul," I clarified.

"Something to that effect," Carlisle admitted with a sheepish shrug of his shoulders.

"And so he did."

Carlisle blinked his black eyes away from the pooling wax above us and rapidly turned to face me. "What?"

"He saw you appear to him as an angelic apparition because you wished it," I proclaimed. "He remembers the events differently because you wanted him to, and you touched him with that desire strong in your mind."

"I…" he began defensively, before he trailed off in uncertainty, clearly suspicious of my theory, but I could also unable to dismiss the prospect entirely.

"Let's do an experiment shall we?"

…

"Fascinating… though I believe that was not convincing enough—you only replaced the images in Caius' mind. Let us try the sensations as well," I encouraged eagerly.

Caius's lips curled into a fierce sneer at the prospect being used so selfishly, and he hissed threateningly in warning, "Aro…"

I quickly interrupted him. "Don't worry Caius—he has promised not to use his gift maliciously, and with mine, I shall immediately know what has been changed. Besides—the memory of an apple is hardly relevant," I reassured him, gesturing to a red, glossy fruit lying atop a mahogany table in the center of the room.

"That apple _was_ a pear two seconds ago, I swear it!" Caius shouted, jabbing an accusatory index finger in the direction of the shiny red object, his snowy white hair whirling ferociously around him as he rapidly switched his head from facing myself, towards facing the tabletop.

"Precisely, Caius," I agreed sarcastically, amused by his insistence, generated by the falsehoods Carlisle had placed in his mind.

I turned to Carlisle, anxious to try something else. "Now lets see if we can give it the impression of feeling like something painful—not anything horrific, mind you, just somewhat uncomfortable."

Carlisle initially was hesitant to comply, seeing Caius' livid face, but fearing my wrath more than that of the white-haired vampire, Carlisle reached out and touched Caius' left wrist and focused, his eyes sliding shut as he conjured up something disturbing to replace Caius' recent memories. After a few seconds of silence, Carlisle pulled back, and cautiously stepped away from the ancient vampire, taking refuge at my side. I watched, fascinated as Caius' expression went from peaceful, to pained, to dumfounded.

After a moment, seeing my intense scrutiny, my brother decided to explain. "I recall pain, and my body reacting to it, but I was still content," Caius explained, bewildered by his altered memories. "That was unconvincing," he concluded, staring coldly into Carlisle's obsidian eyes, causing the younger vampire to squirm slightly in his boots.

"You don't suppose you could change his emotions towards the event, could you?" I asked, turning to my shaking guest, and gesturing towards Caius.

"I shall attempt it…" he acquiesced timidly, "but we will need some sort of control. It would be much easier to try to calm him, than to agitate him artificially, I think," he proposed logically.

I turned to my one-armed brother. "Caius, do you mind if we… ah, _agitate_ you?" I suggested with a diabolical smile as I mentioned the prospect of irritating him.

Caius sighed exasperatedly and crossed his arms over his chest. "No matter what I say, you are going to do as you wish anyway," he grumbled dejectedly.

I smiled ecstatically. "Thank you for your cooperation, Caius, I quite appreciate it," I announced, clapping my hands together in exuberant joy. "I would have asked Marcus but well…"

Caius snorted. "You wouldn't have gotten a word out of him. I know."

"How to agitate you then… to induce a strong emotion of discomfort and attempt to relieve it…" I pondered aloud, tracing a few fingers beneath my chin in thought. "I have no desire to actually harm you…" I said before my smile suddenly grew and my crimson eyes sparkled with delight.

"I have the most splendid idea," I declared at once, turning to whisper my brilliant epiphany in Carlisle's curious ear, before carefully drawing away to survey his reaction to my devious suggestion.

"But sir!" Carlisle protested hotly, "Both of you are…"

"It matters not," I swiftly cut him off, not wanting to spoil the surprise for Caius. "He will be forgetting anyway," I justified quickly, which caused Carlisle to resign to silence, but it was apparent from his deep frown and sorrowful nod that it was begrudging. "Besides… I shall not touch him _too_ vigorously," I added with a delighted smirk, which caused a sour, somewhat fearful expression to wash over Caius as I gazed at him hungrily.

I wanted to laugh. It was a pity that Caius would be forgetting this, because it was guaranteed to be hilarious.

I strode over to where Caius stood, suspiciously watching my every move, and tensed in preparation for a physical assault, and merely smiled at him for a while, until he at last appeared to relax. At the moment that he dropped his guard, I abruptly seized his pale ears with my strong hands, and tugged his face down to meet my own, my lips crashing over his with a frenzied passion, and my fingers reaching to tangle in his silky white hair. Through our contact, I could feel his intense shock and displeasure, and knew intimately what it was like to be in his shoes, unexpectedly and horrifically, passionately kissed by Aro of the Volturi. The sensation of my own lips eagerly moving against his, which were frozen stiff in stupefied shock, was unsettling to feel for myself, but through my many years of living with my gift, I had learned to not be too perturbed by experiencing intimate moments from the opposite perspective.

Somehow I still managed to have a healthy intimate relationship with my wife, after all.

After a few moment, Caius began to wriggle in my ardent grasp, and as I realized that I had persisted in my assault longer than I had originally intended, being thoroughly distracted by Caius' thoughts of the taste and feel of my own lips, and I suddenly unhanded him. As I floated away from him, Caius rushed towards me, furious that I had dared to do such a thing, but before he could reach my person and one-handedly tear my head off for such an unseemly display, Carlisle snatched up his intact wrist, and replaced the memory with something else, causing Caius to immediately stop in his tracks, and gaze around the room, dazed and confused.

"Aro what has happened!" Caius bellowed wrathfully, seething in unbridled rage, with venom visibly dripping from his bared teeth. "You've done something abominable, but I cannot remember it. All I see in my memories is myself staring blankly at the ceiling—but I felt disgusted, angry… confused… used… What did you do to me?!"

I merely smiled. "Ah, so it seems that the emotions must remain the same. Pity," I commented with a tiny sad shake of the head, before directing my attention back towards Carlisle. "Shall we see if you can restore his memories?" I requested, gesturing toward my overwhelmed-with-rage brother.

Carlisle whipped around with a disbelieving fearful expression burning in his jet-black eyes. "Are you certain you want to do that?"

"Caius will never let this rest until he knows," I offered with a short sigh. "And besides—it would be cruel to deprive him of such an experience," I added with a cruel smirk. "I have been told by many that it is quite heavenly."

Carlisle made a disgusted face, as he came to understand my meaning—that I knew what it felt like to be kissed by myself through my powers—but he complied anyways. After he drew his hand away from Caius, however, Caius' face contorted with rage.

"You! How _dare_ you!" he screamed at a piercing volume, causing one of the glass vases beside the apple on the mahogany table to shatter into a thousand jagged piece, before he lunged at me, and I dodged his obvious attack easily, laughing my head off at his hilariously predictable rage.

"My lips are reserved for my wife alone, you fiend!" Caius spat, tensed into a crouch and looking for an opening.

"Ah, such a pity…" I sighed mockingly. "They're quite the gift, you know."

Caius fumed at my arrogant remark and Carlisle looked uncomfortable, as though he would have been blushing several shades darker than a tomato if his physiology did not prevent it, and as thought the prospect of anything more than brotherly proceeding between Caius and I struck him as horribly disturbing.

Luckily, Carlisle and I were on the same page about that last one.

"Do not worry, dear Carlisle—I desire no amorous relationship with Caius," I reassured him. "He is simply amazingly fun to tease."

Caius growled in protest of my statement, and once again lunged at me, with one arm savagely reaching to scratch my eyes out, as a laughed jovially and easily flitted out of his reach. _Yes... amazingly fun to tease indeed. _


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: This chapter relates some of Carlisle and Aro's discussions which are alluded to in the beginning of Chapter 10 of the Luxury of Mercy. This one particularly revolves around Carlisle and Aro's different religious beliefs and how that colors their perceptions on taking human life for sustenance. As I said earlier, in the Luxury of Mercy, I'm not trying to preach, condemn or condone any faith, but simply remain true to my own vision of the beliefs of the two characters involved.**

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><p><strong>Reconciling Faith with Food <strong>

"Is this arrangement acceptable to you? Can you agree to disagree about our preferred feeding methods?" I asked Carlisle.

"I believe so, so long as our discussions occasionally involve other topics…" he responded.

"Of course. One can only stand to speak of such things for so long, and we have much else to discuss: philosophy, science, medicine, art, religion…"

"Religion?"

"Oh yes, dear Carlisle, or did you assume that I, like Caius, am godless?"

"I simply cannot fathom how you can reconcile your faith with…"

"…with my monthly indulgences." I finished for him.

Carlisle nodded sadly. "Even the heathens believe their gods disapprove of murder."

"Ah, you see I do not perceive what I do as murder, Carlisle."

Carlisle looks confused. "By whatever name you call it, it is still wrong."

"Oh?" I seated myself beside him and listened intently.

"I feel like it has been made very clear that God does not appreciate the slaughter of innocents."

"Humans killing other humans is entirely different from what myself and my guard do, Carlisle. Humans may kill for just reasons—such as defense of their country, families and freedom, or they may murder out of malice, envy, bloodlust, revenge, or other monstrous reasons. Humans execute justice on each other, and sometimes this necessitates taking a life also. It is to be lamented, but it is not sin in my eyes—for I do rather the same thing, executing justice on my own kind when it is necessary. I do not revel in it. Do you see me as sinful in this respect?"

"I have not seen enough to truly judge for myself how I feel about that. I suppose, if I believed the accused to be as guilty as you claim, and death was a proportionate punishment, I would not consider that to be a moral grievance."

"We cannot very well imprison vampires for their crimes—death is almost the only punishment we offer."

"…If it is necessary for the protection of our world…"

"I certainly believe that it is."

"Then that is regrettable, but not necessarily sinful." "But you do not kill humans to exercise justice."

"No. I kill humans to eat. There is no judgment, and no righteousness in the act, but neither is there any malice or anger. I feel only elation—like a farm boy being given his first taste of fine Italian chocolates."

"And you feel no guilt for this?"

"Of course not. Why should I?"

"Because it is a sin."

"Is it?"

Carlisle glared at me. He was not going to budge on this one.

"I know of no earthly religion where it is not."

"Ah, but that is from a human perspective. Do you suppose that all of God's creatures are asked to live the same laws? Are not the beasts of the earth then under condemnation for their wrath and fornication?"

"No. Animals are not held to the same standards as us, they are ruled entirely be instinct. We know better. We have been blessed with rational minds and the expectation that we will use them wisely."

"I wholeheartedly agree. But if we are to say that it is not a sin for the lion to do as instinct compels, and eat the lamb, why are we exempt?"

"Because there are other options. We don't _have_ to kill humans to live."

"I beg to differ... but nevertheless, neither do humans have to kill animals. And yet, you had no qualms about eating meat as a human..."

"I... that's totally different."

"Is it?" "Those in the east have proven that it is entirely possible to live a healthy human life without ever intentionally causing the death of any beast, which is more than I can say of your diet, and even then, it did not perturb you."

"Animals were created for the use of mankind..."

"And then were not humans created for the use of vampirekind?"

"No..."

"You seem to think that we are an unnatural addition to the ecosystem of life that exists on this planet. Has it not crossed your mind that we are also God's creatures? That, for whatever unfathomable reason, we were created to be predators of humankind?"

"I... have considered it. But I still cannot believe that he delights in us causing the death of those who bear his image."

"Ah... _Imageo Dei. _Interesting." "Do you believe that extends to us as well as humankind, or is that one of the things you have lost upon your transformation?"

"...I want to say that I retain it, but I cannot be sure." "I still bear the same appearance, in general, and my mind and heart are unchanged from my transformation, but while I previously possessed fallen urges, this new body of mine is... particularly hellish in its desires."

"Perhaps not." "Is it a sin to thirst for water? Or to crave the fruit of the vine?" "Even plants are living things. Whenever you harvest, is not that bringing something alive to an end?"

"The life of a plant is hardly comparable with that of a human being..."

"True. But the principle is the same, is it not?" "What are you afraid of, Carlisle? Taking lives? Hellfire? Losing yourself to your instincts?"

"All three, I suppose. And the fourth is probably that killing simply disgusts me."

"You were willing to try to exterminate a coven of vampires."

"That was in defense of the townspeople. ...And I believed vampires to be soulless, then. I did not know what I know now."

"You concede that we are not soulless?"

"I certainly do not feel as though I lack a soul, do you?"

"Certainly not. My conscience may be... ah... differently attuned than yours, but it still stings just the same." "But back to my original question, you do not like killing?"

"No. I would rather avoid it if I could. I never liked my father's raids, because he mostly executed innocents, but there was not much I could do to convince him of his mistake, as he was starting to go blind, but refused to admit it."

"Pity. And yet you did not step in to save any of them?"

"I usually was not present. Once I began to interfere, father made a point of scheduling the raids when he knew I would be otherwise occupied. While I think he suspected that some of the people he was killing might be innocent humans, he did not care. Their deaths, the "vampire killings" he published abroad, boosted city morale, and increased church attendance."

"...He was a pastor was he not? That seems..."

"My father meant well, but he often got carried away in others' perceptions rather than the truth. I have always sought the truth, and though I may not like what I see, I always face it head on, once I discover it. There was a time where his... antics, caused me to question everything he had ever taught me, including my faith, but the sacred experiences I have had leave no room for doubt in my mind."

"Hmmm... I am impressed. Many others might have been crushed by such a thing, and yet you persisted."

"Do you suppose that this is foolish of me? I know you do not share my beliefs."

"No, not at all. I actually admire that, despite all I have shown you, you continue to support your convictions. I envy you, to some degree that your mind is so sure on the matter. I have lived through so many lives coming from so many different religious traditions, I am thoroughly confused. My experiences with... touching humans as they experience death... have led me to believe in some sort of afterlife and higher powers at work, but I cannot say I adhere to any one tradition. I simultaneously embrace and reject them all. It really depends on my mood."

"That makes sense. What are we, but a sum of our experiences? And to have experienced so much... I cannot fathom it. Have you found any... commonalities?"

"A few. But I have no direction for how to piece it all together. Many belief systems seem to be in contradiction with one another, they all share some fundamental elements about ethical ways of living, character growth, and ascension toward the divine, but most of the intricate theological details vary greatly. There's also the conundrum that, as of yet, I have not heard of the existence of any vampire prophet. Humans have their books and their leaders to give them their direction. We have nothing to look to but our own logic, and perhaps the heavens themselves."

"That is true."

"You simply continue to follow human writings to the letter, which... I suppose is not the worst idea, but I think human scriptures are inapplicable in some cases."

"God has given his word. I agreed to follow it as a human, and I agree to follow it now. My transformation does not change this."

"Yes. I can see that." "I had hoped that I could convince you that 'thou shalt not murder' refers to hateful, wasteful, human-human violence, rather than vampire-human hunting, but it seems you will not be swayed."

"I don't see why humans have to die. You may not be able to live on animal blood as I do... although I believe you simply have not given it a sincere enough trial... but even so, could you not take a small portion at a time, and leave the humans you drank from alive?"

"Surely you know that when we bite..."

"Don't bite then. Draw out blood into a goblet with a knife."

"...Perhaps, but humans are so weak. They can only have a small amount taken from them before they suffer ill-effects. A mere cupful is not going to satisfy my thirst. I would need to have an army of humans permanently housed in this castle to feed myself and my guard. Do you have any idea how ridiculous, not the mention dangerous to our secret that would be?"

"You already keep a few humans around to serve you."

"Briefly... before we consume them."

"Yes, but what of Francesco, the painter? He comes and goes as he pleases and you have expressly told your guard that no one is to harm him, that he is to live out his human days and die naturally, so long as he isn't too nosy. You must know that he knows more than he lets on."

"Of course. I have seen in his mind that he suspects much, but he is wholly off base. Did you know that he supposes us to be angels or even gods?"

"...I did not. Why would he think that?"

"Carlisle, I am very careful that he sees and hears nothing of the... fouler deeds... which happen in this castle. All he sees are a collection of impossibly beautiful, powerful beings, who move with impeccable grace, whose every syllable is a song, and who occasionally appear to glow in bright light. Certainly our red eyes unnerve him, but otherwise the entire picture is angelic, is it not?"

"...When you put it that way..."

"Francesco is aware of what will happen to him if he steps out of line-he has not seen us cause death to anyone, but he understands the unspoken threat well enough. He will not betray us. But I'm afraid the only reason I can say that for sure is because he does not know what we are-if he were ever to learn that we were vampires, rather than gods, his fear might compel his tongue to be loosed... and we can't have that."

"You're saying that every human who knows is a liability. While it may be acceptable temporarily, eventually those who know must either be transformed or..."

"Eliminated. Yes." "Housing a fortress full of humans would be a mess-the human world would likely notice, from all their bustling activity and it would be utterly impossible to keep track of who was protecting our secret and who was not. In order to feed myself and the forty-or-so members of my guard, and not cause any ill effects to the humans from which we fed, we would need to host a crowd of at least four-hundred, if not more, humans. Do you think I can watch that many people? Do you think Marcus can watch that many people?"

"...I see... the logistics make it difficult. I still think it would be worth it, to find a workaround to killing but..."

"I don't. We were designed to kill, Carlisle. Can't you feel it? That thanatoid desire, the call to hunt and feed until the very last drop?"

"...I am in total control of my urges, Aro. While I may, at times, be bothered with such feelings, I do not see them as something to revel in. I rise above my instincts."

"I am not entirely without self-control. Francesco's blood held some appeal for me the other day, prior to my feeding, but I restrained myself."

"Forgive me, but temporarily delaying indulgence to save your own neck is hardly self-control."

I laughed, high and remorseless. "Perhaps, but nothing I do can ever compare to your self-denial, Carlisle."

Carlisle frowned. "It truly is not too difficult... if you set your mind to it."

_When you have a fabricated recollection of the past to assist you, of course not. _

"I see no need to deprive myself of a great pleasure that I believe to be perfectly innocent to indulge in," I said instead.

Carlisle frowned. "And that's where we differ, I suppose."


	4. Chapter 4

**AN: A few scenes where Carlisle and Aro fight/discuss about their differing diets. Again, not super polished, but I like the banter here.**

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><p><strong>Can't spell "slaughter" without "laughter"<strong>

Carlisle was pacing nervously. Our food had finally arrived, and he was disturbed by the prospect of what was about to happen. I had politely extended the offer for him to join us once again, hopeful that even the slightest taste of human blood might persuade him to change his mind. I worried for him a great deal—he was quivering, sickly, and if anything the dark circles under his eyes only looked darker than ever before.

As Heidi entered, with a large crowd of humans behind her, a wild thirsty look briefly flickered over Carlisle's face—its intensity so raw and unbridled it made the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end—before his sorrowful expression returned and he immediately moved to leave. I stopped him with a hand on his shoulder, and entreated him one more time.

"Whether or not you partake, the fate of these humans is already decided." "What harm is there in simple taste?"

Carlisle swiveled and surveyed the crowd hungrily, and I could tell he was warring with the throat-splitting thirst inside him. I hoped, for his own sake, that he would give in, but alas, it seemed that his ability to re-write his memories made the present pain fleeting and thus bearable, so he turned away again.

"I fear that if I taste human blood I will enjoy it far too much."

"Is it a crime to enjoy something so exquisite?"

"It is a crime to enjoy killing."

I frowned. It always went back to that.

"Does the famer always _enjoy_ slaughtering the pig?"

"You do."

"Perhaps..."

I considered what to say next, but Carlisle had already walked down the hall, and disappeared around the corner. He was determined in his starvation. I was about to chase after them, but the scent of humans arrested me, and I realized that all eyes were on me, waiting for me to give the signal to begin the feast. Quickly, my eyes settled upon a middle-aged man who smelled especially delicious, and I decided he would be my first course.

Raising my arms up to the sides, spread wide, and with a demonic grin on my face I said the final words these humans would ever hear:

"Welcome to Volterra!"

And we descended on our prey.

...

"Yes. I may not agree with it, but I do understand your pain Carlisle." "I hope that perhaps in time, your heart may be at ease over the matter, but I will not pressure you to change your way of thinking."

"Not even after this?"

"After what? Those with physical gifts were reaching a state very close to death. Now they are not." "You said that yourself and those with mental gifts or no gifts at all were doing quite well."

"Relatively speaking, yes..."

"Then perhaps you may eventually find success with the three I have left in your care."

"I am starting to worry that I will not. Heinrich, Carmen and Athenodora are well enough when they do not exert themselves and are completely cut off from human blood, but they have experienced some... unfortunate side-effects."

"Ah, yes. Caius was rather upset that his wife's hair had become so short and brittle. He would have removed her from this experiment immediately if Athenodora was not so adamant to see this through. She may not care to spare human lives, but her friendship with Carmen is important to her."

"Yes... and Carmen and I are of a similar mind on the matter of eating humans."

"I had noticed. Although it is curious that her mate, Eleazar does not share her philosophy." "He has protested it vehemently, on occasion."

Carlisle ducked his head. "I am surprised that they are mates at all. Eleazar is suspicious of that which he does not understand, he prefers to analyze things before he jumps to conclusions, but Carmen is spontaneous and always jumping in without thinking."

"Some say that opposites attract."

"Perhaps, but I fear that they may be too different. Their difference in diets especially... it may well tear them apart."

"You and I still manage to be friends despite it."

"Friends, Aro. Not lovers. I can politely disagree with friends, but to be on such drastically different pages than each other as man and wife? ...I do not think that is healthy in the slightest."

"Perhaps one may succeed in convincing the other to change their ways." "But I suppose in that regard we will be cheering for the opposite teams."

"Yes, I suppose we shall."

I made to leave

"Where are you going?"

"I figured you would not want me to linger... like this." I gestured to my stained lips and flushed cheeks, to highlight the indications of my recent human killing.

"Could you... stay a while longer?"

"Of course, if you still desire my presence. Is something the matter?"

Carlisle gestured for me to come closer, and I hesitantly stepped forward, aware that if I drew too close the smell of the human who had died in my arms only minutes before would overwhelm him. Carlisle made a barely audible impatient noise, before flinging himself into my arms, and releasing a round of terrible dry sobs. I was stunned that he would seek my comfort of all people, but I rocked him gently and patted his back nonetheless. Perhaps he simply needed someone to cry on, and I was the only one he trusted for the task. But as my cheek connected with his for the briefest second, I felt his need for me specifically, for his friend, the only one, who, despite being a remorseless human-drinker, profoundly understood his turmoil.

When the connection was severed, I sought out his hand, slowly curling my fingers around his, so that I could feel his emotions in the present once more.

"I worry... I worry that what we have seen in the experiment... that eventually I..."

"Shh..." It was better if Carlisle didn't talk about it right now. "I know. There is no need for words."

"But what if... what if there comes a point where I can no longer restrain myself? What if I...?"

"Carlisle, I cannot promise anything other than this: no matter what you chose to eat, I will always consider you to be my friend."

Carlisle gave a shaky nod and then a sudden short laugh. "It is because of our friendship that we pester each other so much about this, isn't it?"

"Of course. Friends look out for each other, and although our concerns are different, we both lament to see each other in danger, whether having to do with the body or the soul."

"Is your pain over this as exquisite as mine?"

"Do you trust me to relay the truth in that?"

Carlisle laughed. "We really do need an intermediary. But yes, I do."

"Then yes. I worry for you just as much as you worry for me. Your worries may be directed towards a more lasting fate, but mine are potent, nonetheless. This experiment has begun to prove that your health is..."

"...Less than ideal, I know."

"Carlisle. Do not despair." I added pleadingly, "Please. It utterly wounds me when you do so."

"What would you have me do then? Ignore my conscience?"

"Dear heavens, no! But let us say that this experiment is unsuccessful, and you discover that eventually even your own thirst must be satisfied with human blood what will you do then? Will you return to the forest and try as you did then, to end your existence? Will you ask me to lock you away until you starve to death? Or will you accept it?"

"I do not know, Aro. I sincerely hope that such a thing never happens."


	5. Chapter 5

**AN: These two scenes are awkward moments between Aro and Carlisle when Aro uses his gift that didn't make it into the final cut of the Luxury of Mercy, but I think are still pretty great, so I posted them here. This chapter does have some mildly sexual themes, but I don't think its anything worrisome, even for rather sensitive readers, so... no worries. :)**

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><p><strong>Matters of Intimacy<strong>

"Aro… are you still in there?" Carlisle asked nervously, swallowing thickly and looking somewhat uncomfortably at something on my face—my eyes, perhaps? _Were we really back to the tiresome state of him being freaked out by the implications of their color?_ I thought incredulously. _I thought we were past that stage by now. No, it's not that… his apprehension seems to stem much more from awkwardness than fear or hate—what is…_

Suddenly through our physical contact I see through his eyes what I looked like to him, bent deeply over his fingers, caressing the cool surface of his sensitive skin gently between the palms of my alabaster hands, with my head down, but my eyes staring smolderingly, sensuously into his. That was not my intention—but I suppose my remembrance of all the amorous experiences I have lived through were showing through, and it for the sexually-inexperienced, one-hundred-percent heterosexual man, being looked at that way by me, (unintentionally or otherwise), a biological male, was freaking him out.

Not wanting him to get the wrong idea, I draw my hands away from his quickly, the connection between us rapidly melting away, leaving me entirely myself once again, and I fight through the ensuing dizziness of being thrust back into my own mind to open my mouth to clarify that whilst I am linked to another, I have little to no control over my facial expressions. But the words are strangled and flustered as they pass over my lips, "Carlisle, it is not what you think, I…!" and I cease speaking before I dig myself into an even deeper hole.

Carlisle turns his head away in fervid embarrassment, "You know that I…" he pauses, most likely thinking of the most polite way to express his distaste for romantic relations between men "…do not desire you in that regard, Aro," he finishes with a somewhat frightful tenor in his voice, and I watch in alarm as he attempts to put as much distance between us as possible, until he is pressed flush against the case of bookshelves behind him.

"!...And neither do I, I swear it!" I declare passionately, but it is clear from the way Carlisle trembles almost imperceptibly against the tall oaken furniture that he did not believe me in the slightest. _What on earth did he think I was going to do? Ravish him here and now? In the library of all places? What sort of man did he think I was?_

"Carlisle… whatever you may think I feel for you, I assure you it does not trespass beyond friendship. And regardless, I am not so barbaric as to take someone against their will—so you are quite safe in my presence."

Carlisle swallowed, and nodded.

"But I did not come here to discuss matters of intimacy…

...

Certainly there was no guarantee that even the most compelling of evidences would be capable of swaying him, because he was, like myself, incurably stubborn once he set his mind on something—but I had to try.

I understood his pain, to some degree—for while I had somewhat different spiritual beliefs, I too, had gone through a period where I had worried for the welfare of my soul if my immortal body were ever destroyed. It was a phase almost every vampire went through, early on, adjusting their human morals to accommodate their new existence—some, such as Caius, Heidi and the twins, Jane and Alec abandoned their human beliefs and ideals entirely and lived only based on indulgence and self-preservation, and others, such as Eleazar, my late sister and myself, simply gained new perspective, and added to or amended their beliefs to make provision for satisfying our thirst, but still held on to some theological principles and notions of over-arching right and wrong.

Carlisle seemed unable to reconcile the two, however—which was perplexing. Certainly he could see that killing humans to eat and cold-blooded murder were two entirely different things. I did not terminate human life because I hated humans, or believed them to be lower creatures, because such a line of thinking was impossible for me. Every human being I had ever touched with the intention of destroying, my gift forced me to experience their entire life in all of its beautiful and terrifying detail, and in those brief moments of deadly contact, I loved them, as much as I loved my own self. As my hands grasped ferociously at their skin, and my teeth bit through it like a knife through butter, I understand them intimately—all their aspirations, hopes and dreams—and could feel their burning desire to live as though it was my own.

It was a great pity that they had to die to sustain me, and some days the pain of experiencing death at my own hands was almost too much to bear—but living with my gift for three thousand years had hardened me into someone who was capable of destroying what they most deeply loved, if it was necessary for my survival. So when I saw the negative effects his abstinence from human blood had on his body, I did not desire to desert my current ways, even for the sake of my own sanity. My physical strength was far more important.

The reason I was running towards Carlisle now, even though I knew that I was the last person he wanted to see at the moment, given the abundant slaughter which just transpired in my decadent throne room, was that I wanted to discuss our experiment—especially in regards to how it was effecting the newborns, to highlight the severity of their suffering. And if Carlisle was willing to listen to my explanations for why I believed animal blood to be insufficient, I hoped that seeing his extreme agony reflected so clearly in the others would convince him to abandon his self-destructive ways.

I burst in through the tall, wooden double doors to find Carlisle sitting on the floor with his back against a large bookcase, severely bent over grisly medical journals—with vivid depictions of torn and bleeding human bodies—hastily writing cramped notes with a feather pen in a small, brown, leather-bond journal. It surprised me that he could stand to look at such gory things without salivating—especially in his thirsty state, because I knew that in the wildest throes of thirst vampires could become so confused as to drip venom at the sight of wine or tomato juice, and certainly the sanguine red ink should have had the same effect. I was unaffected, of course—being so well fed, the artists' pale representation of the glory of human blood was not enticing in the slightest—but I was disturbed that outwardly he appeared so serene despite the pain I had felt in him this morning—probably another side-effect of his constant mental-meddling.

As I strode closer, Carlisle made no indication that he had noticed my presence, although from how dramatic my entrance was, I knew he had—for not even a human could have missed the fact that I had heartily slammed open the library doors, and floated into the vast room with authoritative grace. Instead, he was pointedly ignoring me as he frantically scrawled more notes, and delicately turned the fragile pages of the old tome resting in his lap. Frustrated I made a sound, like clearing my throat—although I hardly needed to do such a thing as a vampire—but Carlisle remained utterly absorbed in his work, a deep scowl forming in response to my interruption, and his pen still scratching noisily against the rough tooth of journal's inner surface.

As my buckled, pointed black shoes carried me smoothly over the hard, glistening marble floors, the heels clacking noisily against the beautiful polished surface, Carlisle abruptly snapped shut the large book in his lap with a thunderous _clap_, sending a thick cloud of grey dust into the air in front of him. The dark shroud his forceful action generated shrouded his face from my view for a few moments, but when it dissipated, his disapproving eyes bored coldly into mine, stunning me with iciness I found in his golden glare.

Carlisle was usually quite the stickler for good manners, so I was initially confused by his reaction, until I caught the scent which had offended him—the residual smell of human still clinging to my skin after my recent feeding. I wanted to throw my hands up in exasperation—I had bathed, changed my clothes, and tried to mask it with a few sweet, though not overpowering fragrances, but despite my efforts, it seemed there was no way to hide the smell of the woman I had just consumed which was still lingering on the tip of my tongue, whose blood had stained my eyes a brilliant crimson, and was still blossoming in my cheeks as my body worked to digest it. Perhaps I should have simply waited it out—the signs of my recent feeding were still written plainly over my features, and while these did not disturb the other members of my guard, I should have known that Carlisle would be extra sensitive to the evidence of my recent crime.

The unforgivable crime of satisfying my hunger.

"You agreed that I could study in _peace_ if I stayed here," He ground out between gritted teeth, his tone absolutely livid as he stared at me with unadulterated loathing, as though I had done something terrible to him personally, or at the very least to someone he knew extremely well. Clearly all human beings were Carlisle's kin, and I had deeply offended him by approaching him so casually after rejecting his "humane" alternative, and doing as was my natural instinct, and taking the life of one of his precious friends.

I took a step back—I did not come here to fight.

I only wanted to have a civil discussion, but it seemed, from his vividly enraged expression, that I would have to offer some sort of penance first if I wanted to have any sort of amicable conversation with him.

"That I did," I agreed, recalling my earlier promise to the irate blonde vampire, which I had no intention of rescinding now, even in light of what I had learned during our time out in the countryside yesterday, as a man of my word. "I apologize, both for this interruption now, and for my unacceptable conduct earlier," I said with sincere regret—for it truly was tactless of me to barge in unannounced to disturb his studies whilst drenched in the scent of human demise, and my earlier pestering for him to join my brethren in the feast had been equally so.

Carlisle tried to hide his incredulity at my last admission—the idea that I was apologizing for something for which I clearly held no remorse was mind-boggling to him—but he lost the battle, and a single blond eyebrow rose against his pale forehead.

"It was… insensitive of me to pressure you into joining our meal. I only want to reiterate that you are free to live as you please, and it is not my place to force you to make different choices." _I may disagree with your self-starvation heartily, but the best decisions are made according to one's own free will, of course. "_The offer still stands," I made sure to add, trying—I'm not sure how successfully—to mask my overzealous hopefulness that he would eventually accept it, "now and as long as you choose to stay, you are free to participate in our feasts when they occur, or request any of the sustenance we keep on hand in case of emergency." I gestured widely to the entire Volturi fortress, with the intention of conveying that all of our resources were available to him, should he only say the word.

"But I will not ask you again," I clarified, seeing his angry glower deepen at my suggestion that he indulge in the vast assortment of sinful delicacies my underground abode had to offer. "If that is your desire, simply inform me and it shall be as you request, and I shall think no less of you for it," I assured him genuinely—_truly I would be a hypocrite if I derided him for doing what was not only natural, but necessary—_splaying a hand over my unbeating heart to indicate that his friendship with me would be utterly undisturbed no matter what his menu choices were, for while I admired men who were firm in their convictions, I did not admire deleterious self-sacrifice.

I was upset to discover that Carlisle was entirely unmoved by my loyal assurance—he retained his unforgiving scowl and said nothing.

"But if that is not your desire, as I presume is the case, rest assured I will not coerce you." I finished, looking my dear friend directly in the eye to express the veracity of my statement as I placed my hands together in a silent promise in front of the glittering silver crest hanging from my throat.

"Do you swear this?" He challenged, his gilded eyes dubious, and mistrusting.

"I swear it," I answered confidently—and I did not swear things lightly, for it was strictly against my code of honor to retract my sincere oaths, and so I would do as I had said, no matter the depth of the personal cost.

"So long as your habitation is here, I will not pressure you against your will to partake of human blood," I clarified, so that there would be no mistake of the terms to which we had agreed when he confronted me later over their supposed "violation." "I may speak of my own appreciation for it, and my own opinions about its superiority…" I explained cheerily, before I trailed off, seeing the deeply disturbed look in Carlisle's eyes, and a tiny frown pulled at the corners of my blood-warmed lips. He was not making this easy for me—so very stalwart, which was a great blessing when it worked in my favor, but a diabolical curse when it worked against me like this—so much so that I might have given up in my pursuit to change his mind, if it were not for my profound compassion for the man.

"However there will be no attempt on my part to force you to conform to our way of life," I offered finally, the tone of my soft, sighing voice indicating that the terms of this pact I was suggesting be formed between us were non-negotiable, Carlisle could either accept it in its entirety, or reject it altogether.

Carlisle's expression was still skeptical—he sensed there was a catch. "And in return?"

I smiled, Carlisle was an astute one to have already ascertained after a few short days that I did not make promises without something given in return. Most had to learn this fact about interactions with me the difficult way. "All I ask is that you afford me the same curtesy," I requested gently, placing a pale hand over the ruffled black fabric lying over my chest, and holding the other, palm-upwards towards him, to visually display that I was only requiring him to give the same as I. "I will tolerate your diet, despite my uneasiness with it, if you tolerate mine."

"I already agreed to that when I arrived," he said somewhat bitterly, though my recent apology combined with the proposed agreement seemed to be warming him up a few degrees, melting the top layer of threatening frostiness away from his figure, causing his tight shoulders to relax, and his brows lift slightly from the deep "v" they were entrenched in. "May I voice my negative opinions as well?" he enquired neutrally, his fierce scowl being replaced entirely with a look of reasonable hope as he gently set his medicinal volume and notes aside, and rose slowly to his feet to face me properly.

"Certainly," I responded brightly, positively delighted that he no longer appeared to be seething with passionate hatred for my very existence, but had reassumed the courteous, gentlemanly demeanor that I so admired in him, and I offered him a dazzling white smile. "I had hoped that we could discuss this matter civilly, without malice or coercion. Can we agree to that?" I petition him cordially, bending slowly on one knee to reach his level, and gradually reaching my hands out to see the answer in his mind, slowly and unthreateningly so as to offer him the chance to escape my talent if he wished it.

Although mildly surprised by my silent request to peer into his thoughts, Carlisle remained perfectly still, and gave no indication of protest, but rather regarded my approaching hands with an impartial expression, before I clasped them together over and underneath his pallid fingers in a tight—but not overly so—friendly sandwich of skin. I felt a brief tingling in my palm as the connection was established, but it vanished rapidly, along with the rest of my bodily sensations as I was distanced from my own perceptions by his vivid memories.

Carlisle knew that he had no need to respond—his answer is already burning in my mind, along with the rest of his memories since our last, fleeting touch this morning when I had grazed his cheek with the back of my hand and informed him that I was leaving momentarily to satisfy my thirst with the bounty Heidi had brought to us. As I touched him now, He simply closed his eyes, the dusky purple lids fluttering closed like the delicate wings of dark butterflies, and waited in resigned silence for me to finish experiencing the last few hours from his perspective. I am once again impressed that he does not protest my casual invasion of his privacy—neither verbally, physically or even emotionally—he is totally at peace, as tranquil as the crystalline surface of an undisturbed pond, even though his darkest desires are utterly naked before my eyes.

His calm acceptance of my frequent intrusions have only increased my desire to touch him over the past few days—because unlike the others here in the stronghold, I know that I will never feel his discontent with my gift, his squeamishness at sharing everything with me, or his embarrassment after he knows that I have witnessed something particularly private. I wonder at the reason for this, and consider that perhaps the fact that he has not yet indulged in the pleasures of the flesh have something to do with it—Carlisle, being the devout son of a priest and still a bachelor, was a virgin, and so I supposed he believed he had nothing to hide.

Once he crossed that threshold—and I had no doubts that he would, eventually, when he deemed that he had found and married the right woman—I was certain he would not be so willing to allow my entrance into his mind, knowing the sorts of things I would see and feel. Men generally did not like the idea of someone else sexually experiencing their wives, even if it was somewhat involuntary and quite second-hand. I chuckled inwardly—those men had no idea that what was far more disturbing than having slept with nearly all the women in this castle by mental proxy, was to experience such intimacies from the _other_ perspective, and thus know very intimately what it was like to be the delightfully ravished women in their arms.

After seeing Athenodora's thoughts, I could never look at Caius the same.

Sometimes when he shot me his coldest of death glares, which was a frequent pastime of his, I was reminded of the smoldering way he looked at her, or rather "me" in the bedroom, and the way those strong hands with which he tore off the heads of criminal vampires had grappled "me" passionately in the night. It was horribly distracting at the absolute worst of times—usually while I was supposed to be making extremely important judicial decisions—and sometimes I wondered if the confusing bouts of lust I felt for him, and others, both men and women, as a result of what I had seen, as well as the full-sensory experience of being in those sexual thoughts counted as infidelity. Physically, in my own body, I was entirely faithful to my wife, but when I was subsumed in the memories of others, I was wholly them, and so I felt _everything_.

I did not believe I was wronging my wife in any way—since it was not as though I sought those things out deliberately—but I wondered what Carlisle would think of it… it was one of those uncomfortable grey areas that likely would disrupt his very black and white perspective on things. Of course, I would have to ask him about it at a later time, for we had much more pressing matters to discuss now.

Slowly I drew my hands away from Carlisle, my sensitive fingertips grazing his lingeringly while our hands gently parted, causing the connection between us to gradually melt away and leave me entirely myself once again. With my own awareness of body restored, I blinked once to assure myself that I had regained complete control of my facial expressions, rose back to my feet, and clawed through the cognitive dizziness of being sucked back into the familiar confines of my own mind to speak: "I am glad that you have agreed to my terms," I said finally with a gentle smile, as my powerful figure towered over my haphazardly seated friend, who was half-buried in books and ancient scrolls of all colors shapes and sizes, and still clutched an ink-stained white feather pen in his right hand.

"However, I did not come here primarily to reinstate our old agreement," I informed him in a calm, serious voice, interlocking my fingers in front of my glinting silver Volturi crest, as I paced gracefully back a forth in front of him, the high click of my heels against the marble floor matching tempo with the impatient ticking of the gilded clock on the other side of the vast room. As I contemplated how to phrase my very important request, Carlisle gazed up at me curiously, his bright honey-colored eyes sparkling with undisguised curiosity, and the fingers of his right hand slowly released his ink-blackened quill and shut his small leather journal to indicate that I had his full attention, though rather than voicing his questions aloud he simply waited patiently in silence for me to continue.


	6. Chapter 6

**AN: Some somewhat unpolished scenes with Vera, and her experiences being one of the newborns in Carlisle's experiment. Poor girl: physical gifts take a pretty hard toll on the immortal body, and to combine that with nourishment that is insufficient for powerless vampires is not good.**

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><p><strong>"You call that food?"<strong>

"Hello Vera, are you awake?"

Vera's bright crimson newborn eyes met mine, and then flickered over to Carlisle's. She seemed perplexed at the color of his for a moment before she responded

"Yes… but I am…" she wrapped a hand around her neck. "…thirsty…"

"Ah yes, we would like to remedy that, my dear." I turned to the blond vampire beside me, "Carlisle?"

Carlisle walked into the hall with a handful of dead rabbits.

Vera looked like she wanted to puke.

"Are those… am I?" Vera gestured to her throat, asking if she is supposed to eat the disgusting creatures.

I look at Carlisle. He smiles sheepishly.

"As a vampire we need blood to survive. I have found that the blood of animals is a viable substitute. It takes some getting used to… but if you live this way, you will never have to kill anyone. I think that makes it worth it."

Vera looked incredulous, and looked up at me longingly. Oh how I wanted to fetch her proper food, but I agreed to this, so I allowed Carlisle to amuse himself.

"It may not smell all that appetizing," Carlisle warned, and I watched Vera's face contort in revulsion and her head nod, as if to say _"not appetizing" is quite the understatement, _and I had to repress the urge to laugh. Not appetizing, indeed. "…but it will give you all the strength you need."

I wanted to snort. All the strength to live, maybe. And certainly enough strength to easily overpower a human. But all the strength she needed? No… animal blood could not give her that.

"I… I will agree to try it…" Vera said nervously, reaching her hands out to take the furry creatures form his hands.

Carlisle beamed and handed them over.

Vera looked disgustedly at the small, dead creatures in her arms, before she twisted her head and latched her teeth into the tiny neck of one of them and began to drink. I watched her expression change from hungry, to disbelieving, to mildly sickened, to nauseated, and watched triumphantly as she lifted her head and spat the blood out, coating the white sheets and the lap of her linen dress.

"You call this food?" She gasped out, blood still dripping from her lips, and her eyes swimming with anger, confusion, and disgust.

Carlisle was taken aback.

"…It is somewhat of an acquired taste…"

"Acquired taste, _my_ _ass_! That is the most positively _revolting_ thing I have had the misfortune of tasting!"

Carlisle was stunned by the vulgarity of this woman. I rather liked her for it.

"…My lady…" he tried placating, but I immediately knew that was the wrong approach with Vera. She had been raised in the slums, callous and unrefined. Vera, despite her now combed hair and clean appearance, was no lady, and she fiercely resented the term.

"I am _not_ your lady! Or anybody's lady! I'm not_ a lady! _Call me a lass, if you must, but I have a name, _sir_." She spat, that last part most definitely an insult.

"My apologies… Vera," Carlisle said regretfully, "I meant no offense."

"Hmm!" Vera turned up her nose at me, and turned to Aro hopefully. "Now where is my real dinner?"

"…I am afraid that I promised Carlisle that he could be the one responsible for your meals for the time being. Until either he or I decide otherwise, you will not leave this room, and Carlisle will bring you everything you need."

"WHY WOULD YOU DO SOMETHING LIKE THAT?!" Vera shouted.

"My dear, I will give you human blood soon… but first, we must conduct this… experiment. Please be understanding."

Vera scowled, first at me, and then a deeper one at Carlisle.

"Fine," she bit out petulantly. "Give me another rabbit."

...

I reached out to touch Vera and closed my eyes for a moment as I felt her agony over the past several months wash over me.

"The animal blood is giving her enough strength to live, but only barely. She needs something stronger to be healthy whilst she uses her powers."

"Aro…"

"You may keep the others for a while longer, but I must remove Vera from this experiment." "She needs to feed properly in order to be of any more use to me."

Vera looked excited.

"Perhaps she simply needs more time to adjust…"

I motioned to one of his guards. "Bring her something proper to eat."

"No, please! Just give me a little more time. She will adjust soon… I know it."

The guards came in with a poor human woman.

"Is killing mortals an obstacle for you?"

Carlisle looked concerned, but I waited for her answer, taking her hand in mine.

"No." And Vera meant it, I could tell. She was eager to rip the throats of humans. I suspected, from the way they treated her during her mortal life, that this was never an issue to begin with, but her prolonged hunger had only advanced it.

"Then will this…" I gestured to the woman across the room, "…suffice for you?"

Carlisle looked horrified. "No, Aro, please…"

"Carlisle… the poor girl is starving. I can feel her thirst. Allow me to feed her properly," I pleaded, before motioning to my guards to bring the human trapped between their fierce grip before the starving vampire cruelly strapped to the table—immobile only because she no longer possessed the pathetic strength required to snap the leather bands holding her in place.

"No!" Carlisle was desperate, and I held up a single hand to halt the approach of my guard. "She just needs a little longer to acclimate—I know she will. Just give her a few more months…"

"A few more _months_, Carlisle? That is absolutely preposterous! Can you not see her suffering?" I gestured to the shaking, pitiful vampire, who looked like she wanted to cry, but was unable to in her immortal state.

But instead Carlisle's eyes were fixed on the human with a deep sadness—he cared nothing for the poor vampire I had sired, and only about the pitiful, desperate harlot who was wriggling only half-heartedly against my guard's fingers on her wrists. Her life had been cruel to her—filling her days with old, fat, sweaty men, the pungent odor of human excrement, tobacco smoke and alcohol, and carrying with her the insurmountable grief of having lost her three children to angry, abusive clients who beat them to death in their drunken rage. To end it would almost be a mercy—not to mention it was inevitable now, as no human entered this facility without changing or dying, and I certainly wasn't going to offer her immortality.

"I am trying to save her soul, Aro!" he bit out angrily, and I fought the urge to roll my eyes. "We don't have time to debate religion, Carlisle, she is dying!"

Carlisle was growing frustrated now. "I…" "Humans should not have to die either!" he snarled in angry finality.

"Perhaps not. But as you mentioned earlier—we do not make the rules of our existence. Those were decided for us by some higher force. To abide by those laws, to accept the sustenance we have been created to crave—is that so wrong?"

"There are many things about our natures which we have been asked to overcome. Simple because we sometimes possess the urges to touch women who belong to another does not give us the right to do so."

"Ah, but you see, although it may not be immediately satisfying, one will not perish or suffer any ill effects from abstinence of that nature. Abstaining from human blood however…" I looked over at Vera, "…is much more akin to excessive fasting. While it may be done with a good cause in mind, it is ultimately foolish to deny oneself the nutrients they require for such an extended period of time."

"Animal blood does have the nutrients we require, I am certain of it… she simply is not acclimated to them yet. With a few more months…"

"I need Vera to be in the best of health as soon as possible—her gift is invaluable to me." "I said you may keep the others, be glad I am giving you this courtesy."

Carlisle pressed his lips together and went silent. Realizing that he was not going to win this one, he frowned, but then turned and slowly began to loose the bands holding down the ravenous newborn. As soon as the last strap slipped free of her body, the famished vampire, staggered shakily to her feet, her choppy, brittle hair rustling slightly as she moved, and leapt across the room at the woman held by the guards.

As the guards side-stepped, I, Bella, was suddenly reminded of Jasper, on my 18th birthday when he had lunged at me, in a much similar manner, before the rest of the Cullens had subdued him. When the vampire's teeth cut hungrily through her flesh and she screamed, I was horrified to realize that I could have ended up like that very easily.

Carlisle refused to watch the incident, but instead flinched at the sounds which reached his hypersensitive ears, and went about cleaning up his supplies in an attempt to ignore the "damnable crime" happening in the very same room.

I understood his perspective, and understood that my actions pained him—for he believed that I had selfishly robbed Vera of her soul. Perhaps he was right about my being selfish—I wanted Vera primarily for her powers, after all—but I also did care about her suffering and the suffering of the others. Carlisle should be grateful that I was allowing him to persist with the others, despite the months of terrible agony they had already endured. I wanted nothing more than to release them, but I needed to let him see the horrible consequences for long enough to convince him to abandon his deleterious ways. Because if I did not, be might decide to recruit others to his futile cause and attempt to indoctrinate them into his tormenting diet, and I hated the idea that anyone would suffer at his hands.

However, I was content to allow it for now.

Eventually, the evidence would be undeniable.


	7. Chapter 7

**AN: Spoilers from the cliffie at the end of Chapter 12 of the Luxury of Mercy. Do not read if you have not read Chapter 12 unless you want to have the plot twist ruined.**

**Yes... I know it's short, but that is all I had written for this. **

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><p><strong>"You have no idea what that means"<strong>

...

"Have you confirmed it?" I asked Carlisle.

"Yes," he responded sadly. "It is true. Vera is barren."

Vera looked up at me sadly, and then wrathfully at Carlisle. She lunged to strangle him.

Carlisle fought her off.

"Vera! Vera! It is alright! This is a small price to pay for human life, is it not?"

Vera slapped him across the face, and he went flying across the room.

"How _dare_ you presume to know what it is like to have that _taken_ from you!" "How _dare_ you filthy, male, _bastard_ tell _me_ what it is like to lose the ability to have children! You have _no idea_ what that is like!" Vera screamed. "You have no idea what that means…" she whispered, dry sobbing.

"I…"

I shushed Carlisle before he dug himself a deeper hole.

"Vera…"

"I can't heal myself... the others... I can fix the others, but myself I..."

She looks up at me, ghastly green skin, dark purple circles, short, brittle hair, and golden eyes and I am stricken with compassion. I never wanted this for her

"Perhaps in time, your fertility may be restored..." I tried to reassure her.

"Maybe," she said uncertainly.


	8. Chapter 8

**AN: More debates between Aro and Carlisle about how they put up with the cons of their diets. These chapters aren't really in chronological order, so I apologize if any details are confusing. **

* * *

><p><strong>How Do you Do it, Aro? <strong>

"Yes… perhaps you are… deluding yourself into believing that you are satisfied, hmm?" I suggested cautiously, in response to Carlisle's burning question.

"I do not think so" he argued. "My powers operate by touch, not to mention that I would have to be constantly modifying my own memories, for I have absolutely no recollection of being in a state like Vera's since my second meal of animal blood."

"Your skin is your own, Carlisle," I reminded him. "Effectively, you are always in physical contact with yourself by the simple virtue of being _you_. You do not suppose that it is even remotely possible?"

"No. Surely I would know of it. Also, why would I lie to myself about my own thirst?"

"You hate that part of yourself. Subconsciously, that hatred, combined with your potent desire to avoid causing death to your mortal friends, could manifest as self-memory-modification, could it not?"

"Memory-modification takes a lot of concentration. I do not see how I could manage it without great focus."

"The first time you learned of your gift was when you used it on accident, was it not?"

"When I made Alistair remember me as an angel?"

"Yes. Your desire for him to accept you and your ways were so strong that you accidentally made him believe that you had come by divine mandate to help him 'repent' of his evil ways."

"The memory was sloppy… though. Everything was off—he did not fully believe it."

"But you have gotten better, yes? Caius still believes that the painting I recently installed in the left wing is an enormous portrait of yourself, rather than a fairly modest one of me."

"…That was not difficult—he was already surprised that you had commissioned another portrait of yourself by the same artist—to convert the image into one of myself, did nothing to disrupt that surprise—it simple gave it new meaning. I have hardly been here long enough to warrant sitting for a portrait."

"Ah… but you should. Perhaps I should tell dear Francesco to do a portrait of all of us—you, Marcus, Caius, and myself. You ought to have something to remember us by when you leave."

"That is very kind of you, but unnecessary."

"Oh, no it is no trouble at all. Francesco considers it his pleasure to paint us, he is happy to oblige any of our requests, even without payment. Though, I am far too generous to ever force him to paint for free."

"How many portraits has he painted for you?"

"Three of myself, two of Caius, one of Marcus, and several of the other members of my guard, why do you ask?"

"I have seen him a few times, but I had thought that keeping a human—and such a famous one at that, in the confines of this fortress was dangerous. Certainly he has noticed things by now…"

"Oh he suspects some, but he does not know the truth, and he does not dare pry—he senses correctly that we are more than mortal men, and is in awe that we would request his services. We are almost deities in his eyes, and he would hate to lose the privilege of portraying our likeness."

"I see. So he will not become food?"

"No. I have expressly forbidden it. As long as he remains quiet, as I am sure he will, he is free to live out his human life until he perishes of old age."

"So you do not intend to turn him, either."

"No. Other than his skill with art, his talents are of no use to me. Eleazar has determined that he has no latent gifts—and I can always find another painter if I desire more portraits in the future. Besides, he is rather famous—the world would take note of his sudden absence."

"Hmmm…"

...

Carlisle nodded. "I can't bear to think of killing humans, even as relatively detached as I am from them, but you..."

"Because their sacrifice is necessary for me to have the strength I need to protect the vampire world. Even if I could live relatively comfortably as you and Heinrich, do, I would not, because I would be weak. You yourself have seen the test subjects go head to head with the members of my guard."

Carlisle grimaced at the memory. "Yes... it does appear that the blood of beasts does not give us as much power."

That was the understatement of the century—Jane and Alec had been able to single-handedly subdue all fourteen of them without even resorting to their gifts.

"This does not upset you?"

"Of course it does, but I consider that inhuman strength to be a small sacrifice to be merciful."

"Perhaps your loss of strength is acceptable to you, but surely you understand that the world needs my gifts to protect our secret."

Carlisle nodded.

"And you know that in order to protect this secret, we must personally exterminate those who transgress our laws."

"Of course. You do what you must to ensure that we do not become extinct. And although your ways may not be glamorous, I understand their necessity."

"Then you must also understand that I must be stronger than those I seek to destroy, or at least within an acceptable margin of their strength."

Carlisle frowned and moved to argue. "But Aro-"

"The enemies I seek to destroy, are not going to be pacifistic like you, Carlisle. They are invariably going to glut themselves on the blood of mortals, and often to the point of excess. My guard and I cannot afford to be weak. We must fight the strongest vampires on the face of the planet, and defeat them without losses on our side. Even if we all adjusted perfectly like yourself, do you honestly believe that such a thing would be possible if we all dined as you do?"

"...I..." Carlisle began pathetically before realizing there was nothing he could say.

Carlisle looked grieved and it tugged at my heart, so I drew him into a comforting embrace and soothed his shoulder.

"Carlisle, I apologize, I did not mean to upset you... I..."

"It is alright, Aro. You're right. Even if the rest of the vampire world adapted to my ways, those who have no respect for the law would also have no respect for human life." "And it would be pointless to have a police force that was utterly impotent." Carlisle pursed his lips and looked away.

"My ways still upset you."

I suddenly realized, however, that even if I could put up with the dissatisfaction and the lethargy that Carlisle lived in, my "sacrifice" to save a handful of human lives, would ultimately be more damaging to the world than helpful. The world needed me to be the strongest, most powerful vampire on earth. That was the only way to maintain order—to maintain our secret and ensure our continued survival. Without me at the pinnacle of might and strength, the world would crumble into chaos.

As the Volturi we needed to be stronger than our enemies, who often gorged themselves on human blood—drinking so far past their fill as to be practically unstoppable. We could not afford to be weaker than the most civilized of vampires—no, we had to be stronger than the most feral, the most disrespectful of humans—and we had to remain in total control at all times. And so naturally, we had to eat a very similar diet to that of our enemies, and never allow our eyes to slide into total blackness, lest we, ourselves, make a scene by carelessly slaughtering an entire village. In order to maintain our power over other vampires we needed to drink human blood, and whenever possible, the blood of a singer—which lent the greatest strength of all, for it was the only blood close enough to the original blood of our once-human bodies to almost restore the strength of a newborn.

I had not yet had the privilege of finding a singer in my three thousand years of existence, but I knew that if I ever found one, I would not hesitate to drain them—the power they bestowed was covetable—and would be very useful in the future.

"Of course. But now I see that it is not entirely out of selfishness that you chose to feed the way that you do. Even if you wanted what I have, the greater good requires something else of you." "You cannot afford to allow smaller concerns like human life hold you back."

"Ah yes. Even though at times, my gift makes it difficult and I wish that I could spare those Heidi has brought for me to consume, I cannot refuse them. For I must be strong. And if I want that strength, I cannot allow myself and my guard suffer. We cannot afford this... 'luxury' of cruelty."

"I would not call it a luxury, per se..."

"Ah, but you are so very pampered, taking advantage of the relative peace and order that our reign bestows upon the world. You can permit yourself to perpetually, partially starve only because I protect you. If the Volturi did not exist..." "Let's just say things would not be so _pleasant_."

Carlisle gulped, but seemed to acknowledge the truth in my statement. Without the Volturi, humans would have discovered our existence a long time ago, and we would be in the process of being hunted down and destroyed, rather than sitting peaceably at a long mahogany table in the library discussing our difference in opinions.

We would be fighting tooth and nail for our right to exist.

And if Carlisle held onto his refusal to drink human blood, he would be the first to die.


	9. Chapter 9

**AN: This is a conversation I wrote while working on The Luxury of Mercy Chapter 16, during which Carlisle starts to suspect something is wrong with the spell. He goes to visit Eleazar and relate his fears and their conversation sort of spirals into a good man talk about their bloodlust, their mates, and their previous friendship with Aro. It didn't make the cut because Aro would have no access to this memory, (since he has not touched Carlisle or Eleazar since their departure) and so could not show it to Bella, but it was so great I had to post it here anyway. **

* * *

><p><strong>"Remind me to never let Aro touch my mate"<strong>

"Originally, I was unwilling to entertain the notion that Aria's spell might be manipulating their feelings," Carlisle explained. "But I suppose you could say my experiences with our old friends have taught me that if something strikes me as strange or uncomfortable, I really ought to examine it more closely, not ignore it."

"You learn well from past experience, my friend, I am glad to hear that." Eleazar said with a small smile. "Though it is still perplexing that you managed to live on animal blood without the assistance of Aria."

"I do occasionally supplement my diet with bottled blood from hospitals, in the rare event that we have a surplus, and I have offered this option to my covemates, but since drinking human blood breaks the spell they refuse. Of course, they refuse even when the spell is already broken, which I cannot understand."

"Ah yes, I had noticed that as well. It is strange isn't it, that they refuse human blood even when there spell is already shattered and it is death-free?"

"It is strange. They all instead resist to drink anything other than animal blood until their instincts grow strong enough to override the spell and drive them into the hunt. Which is counterintuitive, in my opinion," Carlisle stated, scratching a little above his right temple in deep thought. "If human death disturbs them so much, would they not rather drink from the bags I offer them than break the spell killing someone?" he asked logically.

"That would be the rational response," Eleazar pointed out. "But if Aria is fiddling with their minds, then rational responses are probably unlikely. Though why she would want them to be so averse to seeking death-free methods of obtaining human blood, I do not understand."

"I think I might. I refused to take human blood for quite some time in Volterra, afraid that I might be unable to stand such a small taste, and might attempt to obtain the whole meal," Carlisle recalled neutrally. "Perhaps Aria is afraid that the temptation is too strong. Perhaps she is afraid that without a complete disgust with the substance until the thirst is too strong that they would abandon her ways and go back to regularly consuming humans whole."

"I suppose there is that. I would never think of something like that, because I am unafraid of consuming 'the whole meal' as you call it, at least, until I return home with red eyes and my mate gets furious with me for it," Eleazar admitted, shamefully burying his head in his hands.

"That must be very difficult for you," Carlisle sympathized.

"You have no idea," Eleazar sighed. "Carmen is my reason for living, and yet… she is so different from the vivacious, glowing woman I met in Italy. She has soured—and not simply because of the physical effects of her diet, but personality-wise as well. She is angry, cold, and harsh," he related with a frown. "Although we do not sleep, I think you understand what I mean when I say I have been 'banished to the couch' for the past several years."

"She will not… forgive my indelicacy, lie with you?" Carlisle was puzzled by the notion. A sexless marriage seemed utterly ridiculous to him. Of course his relationship with Esme had always been extremely healthy in that regard, so to imagine an absence of passion in the union of his friend struck him as startlingly odd.

"Not as long as I drink human blood, no," Eleazar remarked bitterly. "She thinks I will contaminate her, corrupt her." He clearly thought this was impossible. "Like my evil ideas with transfer through osmosis or something..." he trailed off. "I swear she's gone crazy."

"If her company is that unpleasant…"

"Why do I stay?"

"Yes."

"Because I suppose I hope that the woman I originally mated is still somewhere in there. She was unusually compassionate for a vampire, and I loved that about her. It is ironic that her compassion is what drove her to try your diet in the first place, and now because of it, she has lost it almost entirely." His lips twisted into a malcontented frown. "What am I to do, Carlisle? When she fled Volterra, in response to Aro's persistent nagging to switch diets, I did as instinct compelled and chased after her. I tried to convince her to return, but soon after I had found her here in the Americas, she found Aria and the sisters."

"I begged her not to take the spell—it seemed _off _somehow—but she ignored me and went ahead anyway," Eleazar continued. "To be a good husband, I agreed to try… But after two hundred years of trying, I tire of this, Carlisle. I do _everything_ to try and please her, but I feel she does nothing in return, and is even displeased with my efforts, as though they are not enough." He paused for a moment. "Is Esme upset with you for...?"

"I… have not told Esme that I sometimes drink human blood," Carlisle quickly interjected. "I never take enough to make my eyes any redder than a yellow-orange, which is the tiniest step away from gold that in most lighting, no one would ever notice," he explained academically. "I too, fear her reaction. Which is somewhat ridiculous, because I did nothing wrong to obtain that blood. As a doctor, it is my job to make sure that the blood which is donated but not used is… disposed of properly."

Eleazar snickered. "I guess the hospital does not really care if your mouth is the trash bag for this nearly expired blood."

"Not particularly, no." Carlisle's eyes sparkled with a slightly devious light at doing something so mundanely clandestine. "The taste is best fresh, of course, but bottled blood is still…" he struggled to search for the right words to explain the rapture he felt, "…animal blood just does not compare."

"You can admit that, then," Eleazar noted with surprise that Carlisle was willing to concede to the fact that his body appreciated human blood very much.

"I may not have ever partaken of the full-meal, to my recollection, at least, but I have tasted human blood fresh before," Carlisle explained, as if to say: _I am not enough of a fool to try and deny the fact that the substance brings my physical form a great measure of satisfaction. _

"Ah yes, Aro never could shut up about that," Eleazar recalled wistfully.

"He told others?" Carlisle seemed to think this was a personal affront to his privacy. "Who?"

"Half the castle," Eleazar revealed with a smug smirk. "He meant no invasion of privacy by it, he was simply thrilled that you enjoyed it so much. You forget that he is not embarrassed by letting others witness his own satisfaction. Although I realize that the feelings human blood stirs in us can be… orgasmic, and it makes you uncomfortable to openly display such abandon, but Aro has fed in full-view of his brothers and sisters for centuries. He forgets that newer vampires are often embarrassed to have others watch them eat."

Carlisle looked like he was going to blush, but of course he could not. "If I had known how drinking human blood would make me feel beforehand… I would not have allowed the servant I extracted blood from to watch. It is not the same, of course, but the pleasure is so intense… nothing can approximate it except the intimacies I share with my mate," he muttered nervously. "I feel… somewhat abashed mentioning it even now."

"You must have moaned then, or at least given a hearty sigh," Eleazar mused aloud.

"I really do not want to reflect on what sort of sounds I made, Eleazar." Carlisle looked mortified. "I was not really in control of my body's response."

"You did moan, then." Eleazar's grin grew. "Oh that must have been quite the sight."

"I did not _want _to… it just… slipped out of me!" Carlisle protested defensively.

"I am guessing the poor servant girl was mortified," Eleazar supplied with a short chuckle.

"…She just looked embarrassed, like she had intruded on something rather intimate..." Carlisle almost whispered. "Most do not make sounds like that in public."

"No, most do not. Even in the vampire world it's considered somewhat voyeuristic to watch too closely at least."

"And Aro told everyone regardless?" Carlisle asked incredulously.

"He did not give many details—he simply said that he was delighted that you exhibited the… ah 'natural response' to human blood, I think were his exact words, and he hoped that you might someday switch to his diet and continue to respond that way," Eleazar said with another dark grin.

"I still makes me discomfited that he saw that… and _felt_ that too… from what I understand about his gift."

"You're embarrassed about him feeling the satisfaction of your thirst?" Eleazar enquired, perplexed at Carlisle's embarrassment with something so ultimately mundane, as Aro had felt that same satisfaction countless times, before Eleazar's expression grew more serious. "You should be glad you were not married during your stay in Volterra. Imagine if he had access to all of your thoughts of Esme…"

"Dear heavens…" Carlisle breathed, terrified of the notion of Aro seeing, and feeling his wife intimately like that. "But that means… he would have… he would know exactly what it felt like to…" A look of extreme horror washed over Carlisle's features. "Effectively he would have…" he trailed off, unwilling in his sainthood to speak the dirty thoughts aloud.

"Yes. By proxy, he's lied with a lot of women, Carlisle," Eleazar said matter-of-factly. "Including my mate."

Carlisle's eyes looked like they were going to explode out of his eye sockets. "C-Carmen? Aro has… through you he has…" Carlisle was struggling not to picture the unlikely couple tangled amorously in the bedsheets.

"And Athenodora through Caius, and Chelsea through Afton, and anyone else his guard has ever touched like that. Oh and that's not to mention that not all the humans he consumes are virgins, either…"

Carlisle blanched. "I think I am going to be sick."

"It gets better," Eleazar continued, clearly getting a kick out of humiliating his friend. "He also gets to see the women's thoughts as well. Imagine if he read _Esme's _mind what he would see and feel of _you_."

"Aaagh!" Carlisle cried out in alarm as his mind conjured up very vivid mental pictures of himself and Aro, completely nude, with Aro beneath Carlisle in the place of Esme, crying out the blond vampire's name passionately in utter delight as Carlisle's lips and hands roved worshipfully over the ancient vampire's body. The shocking eroticism of the sudden vision of their coupling combined with the fact that he and Aro were strictly platonic, and Carlisle bore no sexual attraction whatsoever to men churned Carlisle's stomach. "That is… very, _very _disturbing," Carlisle said, shaking his head violently back and forth to erase the image. "Has Aro ever read Carmen's thoughts since you and her…?"

"Oh yes. Aro keeps his comments to himself—I only know this because I understand precisely how his gift works, and what he must have seen and felt as a result—but I did catch him looking at me funny once after our fifteenth anniversary shortly after he had shaken hands with my mate. We had been… _wild_ and I think Aro was somewhat taken off-guard by it." Eleazar sighed. "Carmen and I are not like that anymore."

"Remind me never to allow Aro to read my mate's thoughts." Carlisle said with the utmost seriousness.

"It is unlikely that he ever will, knowing the distance he keeps from you," Eleazar reassured him.

"True. But if he ever does decided to visit…" Carlisle trailed off uncertainly, made vastly uncomfortable by the idea.

"Could you honestly forbid him? Especially if he requested her hand in front of your entire coven?" Eleazar probed.

"…Probably not," Carlisle admitted resignedly. "But if my entire coven was present, he would probably request Edward's thoughts, since by extension he would get a large portion of ours."

"Ah yes, that is true," Eleazar pondered aloud. "But if he wanted a closer look at your life with the… _risks_ of touching you, would he not turn to your mate?"

Carlisle flinched at the mention of his previous misuse of his tactile gift which caused Aro to avoid him like the plague. "You are right. It simply disgusts me to think that Aro would… experience me that way."

"I do not think he revels in it," Eleazar observed. "He is utterly faithful to his mate, physically, at least. But I am sure that it is… interesting…" His lips twisted into a wicked smile. "To see the things that everyone else does in the bedroom… I am certain that most of it he would rather unsee if he could, but… I wonder if he has learned anything interesting..."

"Eleazar!" Carlisle shouted in dismay. "I cannot believe we are having this conversation! I may be a married man but… to speak so plainly of such things… Especially of Aro and I… I cannot…"

"I have hardly related any graphic details," Eleazar said dismissively. "And your relationship with your mate seems… healthy."

"Of course." Carlisle responded soberly. "I love Esme very much."

"That is good to hear. I do hope, for both our sakes that we can get the bottom of this spell business," he spoke with concerned sincerity. "If it is tampering with their minds that does not bode well for anyone."

"No it does not." Carlisle agreed.

"Keep me updated on your findings" Eleazar requested politely, before standing to leave.

"Certainly."


End file.
